Under The Willow
by lullabyeyes
Summary: [Post "The Party's Over"]. “So,” he smiles, “why don’t you tell me why you were weeping under the willow.” [11]


Disclaimer: I don't own, you don't sue. 'Kay?

Thanks/Dedication: For the ever elusive E; my partner in crime. This is for you.

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The rain slips from her cheek to the ground, making puddles on her coat. Her chest rises, falls, and she's sure that this she's on the verge of shattering. The moon doesn't do much to hide her face, so she's grateful that she found a spot, under a tree, and in the shade.

"Rory?"

The voice is clear, lacking its usual coating of arrogance, and she's suddenly glad to hear it. He comes closer into view. The moonlight tries to give his hair a silvery streak, but it vehemently retains its golden hue.

"Rory?" he calls again, and she struggles to formulate a reply.

Breathing heavily, she steps out to meet him, wiping her eyes as she does.

"You okay, Ace?"

"Yeah. Super."

"Do you always cry when you're 'all right'?" Logan asks; his voice light.

She sends him a glare, pushes past him, and attempts to walk away. She would have gotten away, too, if he hadn't grabbed her hand at the last minute, sending her back around. She looks down at his grip on her arm, and wonders how long it will be until she's back inside her room, able to wallow away into self pity.

"Logan…"

"Rory…"

"Please, let me go." She tries to pull away, but the attempt is futile. She's finding out that he's as hard-headed as she is.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong, and that you're going to be okay."

She pretends to ponder it over and replies, not too nicely, "Nothing's wrong. Let me get back to you on the second thing. Now that I've told you … wow, look at the … moon … I'd best be off."

"You know, you're horrible at getting out of uncomfortable situations."

She sends him a glare and he returns a grin. "I'm not in the mood for insults, thanks."

"You know, I'm not gonna leave you alone … "

"It appears that way."

"So," he smiles, "why don't you tell me why you were weeping under the willow."

"Nice pun."

"I try."

She sighs, causing him to tap his foot. "Fine. I went back to Stars Hollow today—my home town—and I ran into Dean. Anyway, I was in Doose's Market and …"

"Ah, yes. The ex. Continue …"

"Ex? We haven't even br---"

"You will."

"How---"

"Kinda obvious."

"Well, anyway," she tries to continue. "So, I ran into him at Doose's in the fruit and vegetable aisle—"

"Ah, yes. The aisle for young lovers. Aphrodisiacs, those melons."

"Shut up, they are not. You know what? Forget it…"

He laughs, reaching out to touch her arm again, and she relents without putting up a halfhearted struggle. "Sorry, sorry. I'm kidding. I forget which fruits are though—let me get back to you. Anyway. Continue, please."

"Fine. Well, I came over to him, tapped his arm, and said that I wanted to talk. He was quiet for a while before he turned and completely cut me off. I was confused, so I went over to where he was facing and tried again until he just started … screaming at me. Right there. In front of everybody."

"Ouch."

"Well," she looks to the sky, eyes wide, as if trying to force the tears to stay back. "God, he was just so … upset … and I didn't know what to do … and … "

"Why would he scream at you in the first place?"

She looks away at this question, forcing her eyes to the ground, on her shoes.

"He's, umm, still upset about what happened at the party …"

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, to be fair, the guys and I didn't do anything except stand there."

Rory sighs again, struggling to force words out. "It wasn't about you."

"Okay."

"He just … I don't know. I guess he doesn't feel like he's fitting in … and … I mean, this has happened before, so I guess it's just history repeating itself. And … well, I guess there's more to it, a lot more to it … I just … I don't … "

He leans his head to the side, still staring at her, before taking her hand. "Come on, let's go."

"Where?" she asks, sniffling.

"Movies. I hear they're showing Casablanca at the old shows tonight. We'll take my car, since you're not in the right mindset to drive."

She nods, letting him lead her to his black car, and climbs in. "I thought we were talking."

"We are talking."

"I mean about…"

"Well, talking is overrated anyway, don't you think?"

Silence. A beat. Then, "Thanks."

He smiles, pearly whites and all, and turns on the radio. The voice of Jack Johnson fills the holes of silence. He turns the key, starting the ignition, and begins to drive.

"Hey Ace?" he says as they stop at a red light.

"Yeah?" she answers, yawning.

"We'll have that conversation some other time."

"Okay."

"When you're ready."

"All right."

He turns to her, leans close, and whispers, "It'll be okay, you know."

"Yeah. I guess."

Smiling, he leans back and pushes on the pedal as the light turns green. Quietly, she looks down at her coat and notices something missing. The puddle is gone, dissolved into nothing.

She smiles.


End file.
